Becoming Ice Nation
by greaserslady
Summary: Arkadia and the Ice Nation both have to prove their loyalties to Lexa and the coalition. What better way to bind them than with a marriage? Roan/OC
1. Chapter 1

"A treaty between the twelve clans and Arkadia was announced at the summit. The commander proposed that we become the thirteenth clan in their alliance." Kane paused as murmurs broke out among the citizens of Arkadia. He held up his hands to bring attention back to what he had to say next.

"Now obviously besides peace for all of our people, this would also open us up to trading with the clans. Without the threat of attack we could focus on growing crops and building permanent structures. Start creating our lives here on the ground, instead of just trying to survive each day."

"That sounds great," Pike said as he stepped forward from the crowd. "But I'm sensing a 'but' coming up. What's the catch?"

There was a pregnant pause as Kane found the best way to word the commander's ultimatum. "The clans have a tradition of solidifying an alliance by marriage."

Voices broke out once again at the new information. But it was Pike's voice that rang through the loudest. "So, in light of the attack on our people at Mt. Weather, you're proposing that one of our own marry a grounder?"

Kane tensed visibly at Pike's accusation. "I have proposed _nothing_. I'm presenting the option we've been given by the commander. I made it clear to her that we would only proceed if the majority of our people agreed to all of the terms. And if we have someone willing to join into a union with a complete stranger."

Pike smirked at the prospect of any of their people agreeing to such a ridiculous scenario. "Not that it matters, but do we even know who this marriage would be involving? Or are we to trust that the commander choose a suitable partner?"

"It will be the newly appointed king of Azgeda; the Ice Nation." Kane stepped away from Pike to address the crowd, which was quickly getting louder. "It goes without saying that the Ice Nation has done more wrong by us than any of the other clans combined. But that was under the command of Queen Nia. Her son, Roan, has taken over as king and has sworn fealty to the commander. What's more, he agreed to join into a marriage with one of our people to seal our alliance. He's thirty years old and would be seeking a wife, if we decided to go ahead with the treaty." The shouting grew in volume, arguments broke out among individuals, and Kane could only shake his head. This is exactly what Pike wanted.

The man in question spoke up, a chuckle in his voice at Kane's expense. "I think it's safe to say that none of Arkadia's women are going to agree-"

"I'll do it," a young woman's voice interrupted Pike, and a blonde head made her way through the throngs of people to where the two men stood. Kane and Pike both knew the woman and neither were thrilled about her sudden urge to volunteer.

"Isabelle, you don't have to do this," Pike insisted.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. I don't offer much to the people here. But _this_ is something I can do for them." Isabelle shrugged nonchalantly, trying not to make a big deal out of the situation. Her people needed to be a part of the coalition and she was determined to make it happen. On the inside her nerves were making her stomach churn with both fear and excitement.

She had yet to leave the relative safety of Arkadia; she no reason to. Her job was neither guarding nor hunting. No, her role in life thus far had been as the resident seamstress. It was the job her mother and grandmother both held on the Ark and, though she did enjoy making clothes, she was craving adventure. The steel walls of the fallen station felt like they were closing in on her. The trees and wind taunted her, urging her to get lost in the wild world by which they were surrounded.

Before Kane or Pike could continue to argue against her decision, she added, "With all of the clothes brought back from Mt. Weather, you won't be needing me for quite some time."

"That's not-" Kane started, but Isabelle cut him off.

"I'm twenty-three, single, and have no family attachments, Marcus. There's no reason for me _not_ to do this. Unless..." she paused, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Do you think he wouldn't like me? The way I look?"

People had always complimented her on her appearance, but was she attractive enough to marry a king? Her hair was a light shade of blonde that fell in gentle waves down her back. Perhaps he preferred women with dark hair? Her skin was fair, dusted with light freckles. What if she was too pale for his liking? She had dark brown eyes, framed with long lashes. How did she measure up with Grounder women? Surely they were stronger than she was. She exercised to maintain a decent figure, but she had never been in a fight in her life. Maybe strength was more important than physical appearance. After all, one had to be able to survive the harsh terrain and dangers the ground had to offer.

"Any man would be lucky to have you as their husband, Isabelle," Kane said sincerely, only clearing up some of Isabelle's concerns.

"So, I volunteer to represent Arkadia in this marriage. We need peace. Let me help us achieve it." Isabelle put on a brave face, shelving her worries in the back of her mind. She'd have to toughen up if she was going to marry a Grounder.

With a deep sigh, Kane turned to the anxiously waiting crowd. "All those in favor of joining the commander's coalition and becoming the 13th clan, raise your hand."

Isabelle raised her hand instantly, with almost everyone else following suit. Pike and the remaining members of Farm Station walked out, looks of disgust plain on their faces. She knew what the Ice Nation did when the Farm Station crashed to Earth; they all did. But that was under the queen's rule. She had to hope that the new king wouldn't be as cold and ruthless as his predecessor. Arkadia was going to slowly starve to death without a peace treaty. There was no way she would allow that to happen.

-One Week Later-

Polis was busier and bigger than Isabelle had expected. She knew right away that she had made the right choice; the Grounders easily outnumbered Skaikru 100 to 1, and that was just in this one city. A war between their people would have been laughably short.

She walked towards the main building along with a small collection of Arkadia's citizens. Kane, Abbey, Charles, Octavia and Lincoln had made the short journey to witness her marriage to King Roan. In her arms she held a gift for her soon-to-be husband; something Lincoln had told her would be expected before the ceremony. It was a heavy coat she had designed and made purely for Roan. All of her personal belongings that either weren't necessary or sentimental were traded in order to obtain the materials required to construct the jacket. She was filled with pride at the end result: a stunning knee-length coat completely lined and trimmed with black panther fur. The closures were made of leather loops and pieces of deer antler. She didn't have Roan's exact measurements, so Kane had served as a model. If the coat looked half as good on Roan as it did Kane, Isabelle would be ecstatic.

The crumbling building didn't appear fit for habitation, but as they were led up the seemingly endless staircase, Isabelle could see where it had been reinforced with wooden beams. Torches and filtered daylight guided them ever upwards until they reached the very last floor. A man named Titus showed them into the throne room, which was filled with representing members from the other clans. Everyone turned to look in their direction and Isabelle fought the anxiety creeping into her bones. The clans were sizing her up, instantly recognizing her as the one about to enter into a union with one of their highest ranking members. Their faces were either blank or angry and, up to that point, the possibility of the other clans rejecting her hadn't entered her mind. It was Kane's hand on her shoulder that urged her forward.

"Don't lose your nerve, Isabelle. They despise any show of weakness," he whispered to her. She straightened her spine and attempted to appear aloof. She made sure not to make direct eye contact with anyone, lest her facade crumble under the weight of their stare.

She spotted Clarke standing off to the side, closer to the throne than anyone else. Clarke had been an almost daily presence in her life on the Ark. She was a few years younger and thus had been a sort of tag-along when they were children. Any game Isabelle and her friends would play, Clarke would be there, pushing her way in. Isabelle had loved her as a sister then and, as their eyes met, that love still held. Clarke look surprised to see who had agreed to the marriage, but it quickly evaporated into a reassuring smile and nod. Isabelle was grateful for the vote of confidence and she was able to release a bit of the tension her body had held.

"The Commander," Titus's strong voice boomed, announcing Lexa's arrival.

Isabelle knelt with everyone else as Lexa made her way to the throne. She was thankful that Octavia and Lincoln had briefed her on how the court operated. This life was certainly different than life on the Ark but, for Isabelle, it was exciting. Like something out of a medieval story she used to spend hours reading.

Lexa gave the order to stand and everyone waited for her to begin speaking. "Skaikru has accepted my offer to be a part of our coalition. Today they will seal that bond with marriage. King Roan of Azgeda," she motioned for the king to step forward and Isabelle was able to see the man she was about to marry for the first time.

She was stunned. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with? He was, by far, the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His eyes were sharp and calculating, his nose and jaw strong. His long hair suited him perfectly and the scars on his face, though intimidating, seemed to only enhance how attractive he was.

"Isabelle of Skaikru," Lexa announced her and she swallowed any fear she had and stepped forward. Her eyes stayed on Roan to gauge his reaction. His eyes quickly took her in but his face remained completely neutral. She was quickly learning that if Grounders didn't want you to know what they were thinking, you wouldn't.

After bowing to Roan, Isabelle held out the coat that had been clenched in her hands the entire way to Polis. "A gift, from me to you, to celebrate our union. I wasn't sure on your measurements, so I can make alterations if needed." She held her breath as he took the coat, his strong fingers feeling the fur and touching the closures.

"You made this?" he asked, and her toes nearly curled at the sound of his voice. It was husky, deep, _masculine_. She nodded quickly for she didn't trust her voice at that moment. "Impressive." He handed the coat to one of the members of the Ice Nation who had stepped forward, exchanging it for what she assumed was his gift for her.

"May I?" he asked, and she realized it was a necklace when he held it up. It was gorgeous; a single, large black diamond surrounded by smaller clear diamonds and suspended on a long chain. She was quick to turn around and moved her hair out of the way, allowing him to fasten it around her neck. It brushed the top of her breasts and she almost shivered at the feeling of the cold stone against her warm skin.

Her fingers instinctively moved to touch it after Roan had stepped away from her, turning around to smile shyly at him. "It's beautiful. Thank you." He simply nodded, briefly eyeing the necklace hanging around her neck before looking to Lexa. Isabelle had almost forgotten anyone else was in the room, let alone dozens of people watching them intently.

"King Roan of Azgeda, Isabelle of Skaikru, place your hands in front of me," Lexa instructed, and they did just that. They stacked their hands: one of Roan's on the bottom, then one of Isabelle's on top, Roan's other hand, then Isabelle's remaining hand. Lexa wrapped their hands with a long piece of braided fabric; silk, if Isabelle had to guess by its sleek feel. Not that it mattered, she was merely trying to focus on any small detail to help ease the nerves eating at her stomach. She knew what was coming...

"As Commander, I bind the two of you together in this mortal life. Until your fights are over, your souls will be joined. In front of the representing members of the clans, I recognize Skaikru's commitment to peace. From this day, they will be the thirteenth clan of the coalition." She unwrapped their hands and Isabelle tentatively turned to face Roan.

"You may seal this union with a kiss," Lexa said, and Isabelle could have sworn she heard a smirk in the commander's voice. There was no time to check because in an instant Roan was cupping the side of her neck in one of his large, rough hands. His lips met hers in a firm kiss that caught her off guard. She had expected a hasty peck of their lips, or even just a kiss to the cheek. But Roan was clearly a man who didn't do things halfway; or perhaps he needed to uphold his image as king in front of the members of his nation. Whatever the reason, Isabelle couldn't deny the fact that the kiss excited her a little.

Cheers and applause erupted as Roan pulled away, the tiniest of smirks quirking his mouth at her surprised expression. Isabelle barely had time to catch her breath before Lexa announced a feast in their honor and everyone filed out of the throne room. Isabelle nodded and gave a shaky smile to her people as they walked past, promising to find them in the dining hall. When only she, Roan, Lexa and Clarke remained, Roan dropped a bomb on her.

"There's one more thing that must be done," he said, and from a sheath on his hip he pulled out a relatively small knife.

Isabelle was instantly on guard. Lincoln hadn't mentioned anything that involved a knife. "What's that for?" She tried to sound calm but she knew her fear was easily detected.

"What do you see when you look at the members of the Ice Nation?" Lexa chose to speak up, perhaps to show that whatever was about to happen was non-negotiable. Or maybe she just thought Isabelle would trust her more than Roan.

Eyes swept over Roan's face and she knew what the answer was instantly. The scars. They all had scarring on their faces. She didn't know the significance of them, but clearly they were an important aspect of the Ice Nation culture. The fear that gripped her almost made it impossible to communicate, but after a few moments she managed to shakily nod her head.

Clarke moved then, walking past Lexa to stand beside Isabelle. She slipped her hand into Isabelle's and led her to a chair. Once Isabelle was seated and Clarke and Lexa were on either side of her, Roan approached, knife still in hand. To his credit, he didn't look entirely thrilled about the situation. Isabelle found some comfort in knowing that he wasn't doing this out of some sick perversion.

"I'll make them small," he promised in a gruff whisper, and she could only nod in response once again. She was terrified that if she opened her mouth, she would be sick.

A piece of leather was slipped into her mouth so she would have something to bite. Roan was clearly skilled with a blade because in only a few seconds, the cuts were delivered to her face. Those seconds were the most painful ones of her life, however. As much as she tried not to, she shrieked when the knife broke her skin for the first time. If Lexa and Clarke hadn't been holding her down, she would have shot out of her chair in an effort to escape the pain. By the end of those few seconds, her cheeks were covered in both blood and tears.

With a nod, he stood back and allowed Clarke the room to clean Isabelle's face with a wet cloth. Hands were suddenly in her hair, and Isabelle looked up to see Octavia standing behind her, a frown on her face. She spoke to the others in the Grounder language and Isabelle could tell she wasn't happy about something. She had to assume it was the cuts on her face.

Thankfully, Clarke was quick to play peacemaker. "Simply being married to Roan won't guarantee her respect among the citizens of Ice Nation. She has to look and act like their queen."

Octavia didn't reply, but she seemed to accept Clarke's answer. She continued to work Isabelle's hair into a fashion similar to hers; braided on the sides, meeting in a ponytail. Clarke applied a salve to her face to help ease the pain of the cuts and keep them clean. When provided with a mirror, she saw that Roan had kept his word and kept the cuts small. There were two on either side of her face, following the line of her cheekbones. They were similar to his own, and she wondered if he did that on purpose.

"We'll see you in a few minutes," Clarke told her, giving her a quick hug before she, Lexa and Octavia left the room. For the first time, the newly married couple were left alone.

Roan was the one to break the brief silence between them. "They'll heal quickly," he said, gesturing to her face.

Isabelle nodded, not sure of what to say to her husband. She smiled at the thought, and the smile bubbled into a quiet laugh. Roan quirked an eyebrow at her and she was sure he thought her insane.

"I'm sorry," she said once she finished laughing. "But I was just thinking about the fact that we're _married_ and I have no idea what to say to you."

At that, Roan smirked and held out his arm for Isabelle to wrap her own around. She did, and as he led them out of the throne room and towards the feast, he replied, "We have a long time to figure it out."


	2. Chapter 2

Music flowed throughout the dining hall as the clans feasted as one, any division or hostility forgotten in the merry celebration. Isabelle couldn't keep her eyes in one place as she looked around in amazement. This was a side of the grounders she hadn't been expecting to see. It was similar to a wedding on the Ark, only with much more food.

Speaking of which, Isabelle hummed in pleasure as she took a bite of the sweet bread that had been generously piled on her plate. She had a feeling Clarke was behind that, knowing all too well of her love of sugar. It was used so sparingly on the Ark that Isabelle had never quite been satisfied enough. Now she easily finished one slice in a few mouthfuls before washing it down with the wine she was offered.

A chuckle from beside her made Isabelle glance up, brown eyes locking with icy blue. For a moment she was embarrassed to be caught by her groom shoving her face as if she'd never eaten before. But it came and went when she saw that he was amused, her own laugh spilling out.

"This is so good!" she practically squealed, picking up another slice and biting into it before he could reply.

Roan waved one of the other members of Ice Nation over to their table. "Make sure a few loaves of the fruit bread are packed tomorrow morning," he told the young man, who was quick to nod and hurry out of the hall.

"We're leaving in the morning?" Isabelle asked, setting the rest of her bread down. She knew they would eventually go to Azgeda, she just didn't know it would be so soon. She glanced over at the table where her people were sitting. This would be the last time she would get to spend with them for quite a long time.

"I haven't been back to Azgeda since I was named King," Roan explained. "Before that, I wasn't there for years. I need to be a leader for my people. _Our_ people."

Isabelle's lips quirked with a small smile. _Our people._ It sounded nice, but she wasn't so certain she would be greeted with open arms.

Speaking lowly, so only he could hear her, she confided in Roan. "I'm nervous I won't be accepted. Or worse, that there will be those who don't think I'm worthy of being your wife; the _queen_."

Roan leaned into her and grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her eyes to stare into his, which were swirling with determination. "You listen to me, Isabelle. You _are_ my wife and no one will dare to cross you. I won't allow it."

Isabelle nodded, the smile returning to her lips once again. "Thank you," she whispered, and leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

They finished their meal with quiet conversation, mostly about the journey ahead. Roan told her it would take seven days to reach Azgeda, plenty of time for her to learn a bit about their customs and history. He also told her there would be another ceremony and feast in their honor once they reached the capital of the Ice Nation, where Roan's home was.

Around them, people began to push tables and chairs to the sides of the room, making an open area for dancing. Isabelle watched in amazement as the musicians picked up the pace, the quickening beat urging a large amount of the grounders to dance. They swung each other around, laughing happily, and those who were watching clapped along with the music.

Arkadia's citizens had looks of shock on their faces as they looked on from their table. She knew they were just as blindsided by the turn of events as she was. They had been viewing grounders as tough, uncaring people whose only instincts were to fight and survive. Now they were seeing that they weren't that much different from those who had lived in space. They celebrated together; they _laughed and smiled_.

Isabelle was yanked, literally, out of her thoughts when her chair was suddenly pulled backwards. With a surprised shout, she almost fell onto the floor. Two strong arms caught her and swept her up into the air to sit on a broad shoulder. She realized it was Lincoln who held her, his shaved head recognizable to her once she was able to get her bearings. Beside them, two Ice Nation warriors had hoisted Roan onto their shoulders as well. She raised her eyebrows at him, silently asking what was happening. He only smirked and nodded to the dance floor.

The dancers made a circle in the center of the dancing space for Lincoln and the men who held Roan to stand. The musicians changed the song they were playing and began to sing in their native language. Everyone in the hall quickly joined in, all eyes on the couple lifted in the air.

Though she couldn't understand what they were saying, Isabelle could tell the song was a happy one. She could only assume this was a tradition at grounder weddings. When the song ended, the grounders began to chant a single word. It only took a few repetitions of their chanting for Roan to lean over to Isabelle and pull her into another kiss. As soon as his lips touched hers cheers and shouts erupted from the crowd.

When they were set down on the floor and Lincoln squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, Roan pulled her into a dance. Still slightly dazed from the kiss, it took a moment for Isabelle's mind to catch up with her feet and she nearly stomped on her husband's toes. The rest of the dancers resumed dancing around them and, when she was sure she wouldn't be overheard, Isabelle whispered to Roan.

"A warning would have been nice," she said playfully, pretending to glare up at him.

Roan shrugged, that little smirk still present on his face. "I was curious to see how you would adapt to the situation."

"Oh, really?" Isabelle questioned, her brow quirked. "And how did I do?"

"Not bad," he replied, a grin splitting his lips. Isabelle found herself grinning back at him. The wine they drank was making it far easier to interact, she noticed.

" _Bag!_ " one of the Ice Nation warriors shouted, holding his wine in the air. " _Bag! Bag! Bag!_ "

The rest of the room slowly began to echo his chant, similar to when they called for Isabelle and Roan to kiss. She turned her inquisitive gaze to her husband, but found that he was sending an icy glare to the warrior. Whatever they were saying, Roan wasn't thrilled about it.

" _Bag?_ " she asked, glancing towards the table Lincoln and Octavia were seated at. She saw they were also sporting frowns and suddenly became nervous.

"Roan?" she prompted, her voice coming out a little higher than she would have liked. Hands suddenly gripped her arms and started to pull her towards the exit. She bit down on a scream and didn't dare fight; she'd stand no chance anyway. Beside her and her would-be captors, a group of women had seized Roan and also pulled him towards the door.

"Bed," he finally translated, his face still a mask of irritation. "They wish for us to consummate our marriage."


	3. Chapter 3

Isabelle and Roan were ushered into a room that had been prepared for them to 'consummate' their marriage. The men and women who had pulled them from the dining hall wished them luck and quickly exited the room, the door closing with a resounding thud.

Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, Isabelle turned to Roan, only to find him across the room, filling a large glass with wine. He looked at her with a quirked brow and pointed to a second glass. She nodded earnestly; wine was a fantastic idea right now. He walked over to her and handed her a glass and they both drank in silence for a few moments. Isabelle was acutely aware of the tension in the room, or maybe that was just her own nervous energy. She hadn't been prepared for this. Obviously the thought of having sex with her husband had crossed her mind, but she wasn't expecting it so soon.

Stepping further into the room, Isabelle willed herself to relax as she took in the dark beauty of the bedroom. At the center was a large four-poster bed with dark fabric draped over it to create a private escape. Candles were lit everywhere she looked, including on wire racks hanging from the tall ceiling and they created a bewitching, but oddly calming, glow. As she drew closer to the bed, the worn wooden floor gave way to lush furs. She smiled and toed her shoes and socks off, allowing her feet to sink into the softness.

"If you like this, you'll love Azgeda," Roan's deep voice rumbled from just behind her. She quickly turned around and had to look up to meet his eyes; he was inches away from her.

"I can't wait to see it," she whispered. With a shaky hand, she took the glass from his hand and set it down, along with hers, on the table beside the bed. Her body with practically humming with anticipation at what she was about to do, but she was determined to do this her way. She raised her hands to the buttons of his shirt and began to undo them, slowly revealing his tanned chest to her. Before she was even halfway done, his large hands covered hers and stilled her movements. She looked up at him in surprise.

"The first time we're intimate, I'd prefer it to be in the bed we'll share as husband and wife. King and queen." His voice was so low, so tempting to her wine-clouded mind that Isabelle almost whimpered in disappointment. But she was also relieved that Roan wasn't the kind of man to take advantage of their new status and demand that she lay with him.

Isabelle exhaled deeply and she could feel the tension lift from her shoulders. "Thank you," she said sincerely, smiling softly up at him. He nodded in return and sank onto an overstuffed chair to remove his boots. She sat on the bed and thought about her new title as queen. "Do you enjoy being the king?"

Roan was silent for a few moments as he finished unlacing his boots. "I was raised to be a leader. I always knew I would eventually take my mother's place."

"That isn't an answer," Isabelle countered.

"I enjoy parts of it," he relented, and it was clear that that would be the extent of that particular line of questioning. Isabelle nodded in satisfaction. They had their whole lives to get to know each other, no need to rush.

Roan stood from the chair and finished what Isabelle had started: taking off his shirt. Isabelle attempted to avert her eyes but come on! How could she possibly be lucky enough to marry a man with a body like that? He was all lean muscle and his tanned skin was criss-crossed with light scars. She had the urge to trace each one and ask him to tell her about how he received them. His voice broke her thoughts, and her stare.

"You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the floor. We should get some rest, we're leaving early tomorrow." His voice was neutral, but she knew he caught her gaping at his naked chest. There was just the hint of a smirk on his lips.

Isabelle scoffed and motioned at the large bed. "Three people could easily sleep on this thing. I'm a grown woman. I can handle sleeping next you to."

Roan nodded silently before he got onto the opposite side of the bed. Isabelle slid under the blankets before shimmying her pants off and dropping them to the floor. She glanced over at him and saw that he had his eyes firmly fixed on the fabric draped over the bed. She laid down against the pillows and picked the necklace he had given her up to roll between her fingers. It was stunning, even more so in the candlelight. The question of where he got it almost left her tongue, but she decided to hold onto it for another day.

"Isabelle?" he asked, surprising her in the silence of the room. She turned her head to look at him. "Why did you volunteer to marry a stranger? Particularly the king of the nation who attacked your people?"

His curiosity made her chuckle. "It sounds crazy, right? But I don't have any family since the Ark began running out of Oxygen. I'm only a seamstress, not exactly top priority when you're trying to survive on the ground. And to be honest, I wanted an adventure. Something different than the same walls and same people I've known my entire life."

Roan laughed lightly. "An adventure, huh? Well I promise you this, Isabelle. You'll never be bored in Azgeda."

Isabelle wasn't sure if that was a promise of excitement or a warning of danger, or maybe both, but she knew she'd find out sooner rather than later.

***  
The next morning found them near the gates of Polis surrounded by Ice Nation warriors preparing for the journey home. Or what was going to be her home for the rest of her life. Isabelle was a little less confident with herself than she had been the night before. Everyone was speaking their native language and eyeing her warily. It was clear that she had a long way to go before they would respect her.

"Everything will be fine," Roan murmured to her as he prepped their horse. There was a second horse, a beautiful silver mare, for her but until she was used to riding she would stay with him. She wasn't about to argue, considering this was the first time she'd ever touched one of the animals.

"If you say so," she whispered. The grounders suddenly parted and Isabelle saw her people approaching them, Lexa walking beside Clarke. Her frown split into a grin as she rushed to envelope Clarke in a hug. Tears were stinging her eyes and she buried her face into the younger woman's blonde locks until she could will them away.

"We brought you a wedding gift," Kane's voice broke the two women apart. Isabelle turned to see him holding a backpack out to her. "Some things to remind you of home."

"Thank you," Isabelle said sincerely, taking the backpack and wrapping Kane in a hug. Someone cleared their throat and Isabelle stepped away from Kane.  
"We should be heading out," Roan said, motioning towards the grounders waiting at the gates.

Abby approached Roan with her firmest 'mom' look. "You're going to take good care of Isabelle," she stated, leaving no room for argument. Isabelle sucked in a breath, not sure of how Roan would take being told what to do, especially by someone from Arkadia.

Roan raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Of course," he agreed, and no one doubted his sincerity.

Abby nodded and embraced Isabelle quickly. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to let us know."

Isabelle nodded before allowing Roan to guide them back to their horse. Without warning, he grasped her waist and swung her up into the saddle, pulling himself up behind her. She wiggled slightly to get comfortable before one of his arms settled around her waist, stilling her movements. A blush covered her cheeks at their close proximity and she could _feel_ the smirk on his face.

Hoof beats approached them and Isabelle looked over to see Octavia and Lincoln on horses of their own, the former grinning wildly at her. "What are you guys doing here?"

"What's a queen without a queensguard?" Octavia asked with a grin.

Isabelle turned slightly to look at Roan. He rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards the pair. "She wouldn't stop insisting that you'll need familiar faces around. They're coming with us."

"And staying?" Isabelle asked hopefully, and he nodded once again. She grinned and mouthed 'thank you' to Octavia and Lincoln.

Roan navigated their horse to the front of the traveling party and called out in their native language, and just like that they were moving out of the gates of Polis and onto the road that would lead them to Azgeda.


	4. Chapter 4

It was nearly sunset by the time Roan guided his horse into a clearing large enough to serve as a resting place. Isabelle sighed with relief at finally being able to get off the large animal, until she actually swung her leg over to dismount. Her legs felt like jelly and her butt was more sore than she could remember any part of her body ever being. Luckily Roan was prepared and already had his hands out to help her the rest of the way down.

"How did you enjoy your first day on horseback?" he asked when she was on the ground in front of him.

Isabelle groaned and stretched her legs. "Tell me it won't hurt as much tomorrow?" she jokingly pleaded, attempting her best 'puppy eyes'.

Roan chuckled and began removing their items from the back of the horse. "I'd be lying if I did that."

Isabelle groaned again and helped him finished removing their packs. He instructed her to choose a place for them to sleep while he tied the horse near a creek not far away. She looked around the group of strangers, all busy with various tasks, until her eyes settled on Octavia. She immediately made her way to the brunette and set her and Roan's items down nearby. Octavia had already set up two sleeping sacks for herself and Lincoln, and Isabelle followed her lead and dug two out as well. She wanted to be at least somewhat productive, considering all of this was completely foreign to her.

"It'll get easier every day," she heard the younger woman's voice call out. She glanced up from spreading the sacks out on the ground and saw that Octavia had walked over to her. She had a knowing smile on her face as Isabelle stood and winced from the pain.

"The horseback riding or not being useless?" Isabelle questioned with a smirk.

Octavia lightly punched her shoulder. "You're not useless. And I was talking about the riding, but everything else will get easier, too. It isn't easy transitioning to this lifestyle; it's really hard, actually. But it's worth it."

"You know, I'm the older one here. I should be giving you life advice, not the other way around," Isabelle joked. Then she pulled Octavia into a firm hug. "I'm so happy you're here."

Cheers drew their attention to the center of the clearing where a few of the grounders had a fire roaring to life and two more were making quick work of skinning a freshly-slain deer. Isabelle refrained from wrinkling her nose at the sight of blood and guts. Octavia nudged her lightly and she knew she needed to congratulate the men on their insanely fast hunt.

Approaching the fire with Octavia just behind her, Isabelle greeted the men gathered closest to it with a smile. She was honestly astonished at how quickly they had found and taken down a deer, but she was also terrified of being rejected by the grounders.

"That's amazing," she began, gesturing to the deer. The men glanced at her and at each other, as if they didn't understand. "You found one so fast! You must be great hunters! Um, thank you? For finding food for tonight..." she finished, becoming less sure of herself as they continued to stare at her. She was about to ask Octavia to translate, assuming they didn't speak English, when they stood up straight.

"Your queen addressed you and you have nothing to say?" Roan's deep voice was sharp. Isabelle turned to look at him but he was glaring expectantly at the men.

"Thank you for your kind words, Queen Isabelle," the man closest to her said, his English as clear as day. She nodded shakily and quickly turned away, walking back to the outskirts of the group and her sleeping bag.

She sank down onto her makeshift bed and stared at the stars as they slowly began to twinkle in the darkening sky. A mixture of embarrassment and anger was brewing inside her mind. If Roan hadn't come along, those men would have continued to let her make a fool of herself in front of the entire camp. Clearly they weren't ready or willing to accept her as one of their own, or even to make an attempt to get to know her.

The sound of someone approaching pulled her out of her wallowing, and she sat up to see Roan walking over. He eyed their sleeping sacks, which she had placed a couple of feet apart, before pulling his closer to hers. Wordlessly, he sat down, grasped the back of her neck, and pressed his lips against hers in a firm kiss. Isabelle's eyes widened in surprise and her mouth hung slightly agape when he pulled away.

"You're doing very well, Isabelle. Eventually they'll come around," he said lowly, his hand dipping to gently grasp the diamond necklace hanging around her neck.

"Thank you," she whispered. One of her hands closed over the one holding her necklace. The temptation to close the gap between them again was overwhelming, but they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

"Dinner, my king and queen," the same grounder from earlier held two plates of food for them. Roan accepted them and nodded, his eyes still swimming with irritation for the man.

Isabelle suddenly became aware of the fact that the kiss had been for show; he was silently telling his people that he had accepted her and the rest of them needed to as well. She smiled gratefully at her husband and thought once again how lucky she'd been that he was a respectable man and not the monster Pike tried to create in everyone's minds.

They ate their meal in peaceful silence before sliding into their sleeping bags, exhausted from the ride. After a moment's hesitation Isabelle rolled onto her side to face Roan and snuggled against him. She told herself that it was because the ground was cold and she was a little nervous to be sleeping out in the open, but it was a lie she could hardly get behind.

"Goodnight," she whispered against his chest, her lips brushing the fabric of his shirt.

"Goodnight," he echoed quietly. The last thing she registered before drifting to sleep was his hand settling on her waist, pulling her a little closer.

* * *

A/N: This one is a tad short, but hopefully you still liked it? Let me know. :)


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days passed far more quickly than Isabelle thought they would. While they rode, Roan told her about Azgeda's history (which involved a lot of bloodshed) and their customs. He skirted around any questions she would ask pertaining his childhood, she noticed, but there was always a pained expression that would fleetingly cross his face. She was curious about his life and especially about his banishment, but she also didn't want to push too much and make him angry. She could only hope that he would feel comfortable enough to open up about it with her in the future.

Whenever Roan grew tired of talking, Isabelle would tell him about life on the Ark. He was fascinated about how machines gave them everything they needed to survive: oxygen, water, food. The two of them had lived completely different lives but there were similarities as well. The Ark and the people of Earth both had to deal with politics and justice, particularly dealing out punishments for those who broke the law. When it came to those two necessary aspects of life, their people were more alike than they were different.

In the evenings when camp was made, Lincoln and Octavia would sit with Isabelle and teach her a little Trigedasleng. When Roan returned from his rounds of checking in with everyone, the younger couple would excuse themselves to allow the newlyweds privacy. Always exhausted from the day's ride, they were quick to tuck into their bed rolls. Isabelle's hand would rest against Roan's chest while his arm snaked around her waist to hold her close. Neither of them spoke of it but it became their nightly routine.

On the last morning that they would spend in the wild Isabelle awoke with a shiver. The weather had become progressively chillier on their journey north but this was the coldest it had been yet. She sat up and saw that there was a coating of frost on the ground. She desperately wanted to remain under her blanket but the rest of the camp was beginning to stir and it didn't appear that the cold was affecting them at all.

"Cold?" Roan's gravelly voice met her ears as he also sat up. Her shivering was her answer and he chuckled. There was a brief shuffling noise before a warm weight was placed on her shoulders.

Isabelle looked down to see Roan's heavy coat wrapped around her. She was grateful for the added layer and slid her arms into the sleeves. "Won't you be cold?" she asked as she stood to straighten her clothes. When she finally looked up at him she grinned at the sight of him wearing the coat she'd made.

"I think I'll be fine," he said with a smile, fastening the closures deftly. She was pleased to see that the coat fit him perfectly, and she also noted how handsome he looked in it. Her eyes were still raking over his body when he caught her gaze. "Ready to move out?" he asked with a smirk.

A blush covered her cheeks as she quickly nodded and busied herself with packing up their belongings. He left to retrieve their horses and Octavia quickly pounced.

"Excited about reaching Azgeda?" she asked, flashing her perfect smile. When they stopped to make camp the previous night Roan had informed them that they would be reaching the capital of the Ice Nation by lunchtime the following day.

"I'm excited about sleeping in a real bed," Isabelle said as she stretched her back.

"With Roan?" Octavia goaded with a wiggle of her eyebrows. With how mature all of the kids who'd been sent to Earth were it was easy to forget that they were still teenagers. That is, until their hormones did the talking for them. Nonetheless, Isabelle dissolved into a fit of giggles along with the younger girl.

"Yes, with my husband," she finally answered, watching as the man in question made his way back towards them. The thought of having him to herself, in their own bedroom, was enough to send heat pooling in her belly.

When Roan reached them, one hand holding the reins for two horses, Octavia left to join Lincoln at their mounts. Isabelle strapped their packs onto her horse's back, having learned from Roan how to properly do so.

"Will you be riding into the city by yourself?" Roan asked. The past few days she'd been learning how to ride her horse, guided by both Roan and Octavia. She found it quite enjoyable after she got the hang of it and took to calling her horse 'Muffin', much to her husband's amusement.

"Actually I was hoping if I could ride with you again today?" she asked nervously, stepping up to him. She knew the city would be expecting them and that all eyes would be on their king and new queen. Her confidence wasn't up to that level of attention yet and she wanted to hang onto Roan as an anchor for a little while longer.

"Of course," he said and helped her onto his horse. When he settled behind her, his arm comfortably wrapped around her waist. She flipped her hood up so her blush would be hidden and leaned back into him slightly. He called for the party to move out on what would be the final leg of their journey.

* * *

The capital city of Azgeda was like nothing like anything Isabelle had seen before. It was situated not far from the base of a large chain of mountains and surrounded by thick evergreen forests. The buildings weren't as tall as those in Polis, but they had a certain appeal with their stone fronts and smoking chimneys. Markets similar to those in Polis were clustered along the streets they passed through; merchants selling food, furs, medicine, anything you could think of.

Isabelle had been right when she assumed that everyone's attention would be on Roan and herself. People stopped in their tracks to watch the riding party pass, dropping onto one knee when they spotted Roan.

Merchants brought forth gifts from their stalls, holding them up to the young queen with words she didn't understand. She took them with a grateful smile, responding with the word for 'thank you' that Lincoln had taught her. " _Mochof_."

"You're doing fine," Roan's calm voice whispered in her ear. They were leaving the busier part of the city and ascending a hill that led to a large iron gate. A pair of guards granted them entrance and the riding party approached what could possibly be the most gorgeous buidling to have ever been built.

"You live in a castle?" she asked in astonishment, turning to gape at her husband.

He chuckled lowly. "Come on, let's get inside."

People who worked in the stables retrieved their horses and Roan led Isabelle into the immense building. She could barely keep her mouth closed as she tried to take everything in. The floors were pristine white stone, as was the huge staircase leading to the upper floors. There were beautiful paintings hanging on the walls, candles and torches lit along the halls they walked through to light the way and add warmth.

Finally stopping in front of a set of double doors, Roan pushed them open and stepped aside to allow Isabelle to enter. "Our bedroom, my queen," his deep voice made her shiver as she stepped over the threshold.


	6. Chapter 6

Isabelle stepped into the immense room and was floored. The bedroom she would share with her husband wasn't just a bedroom; it was practically a house in itself. Just through the door led into a sitting area with fur-draped chairs and a table with a chess board set on top. There was also a brick fireplace that was already roaring with life, which she was incredibly grateful for.

Further into the room was their bed, once again covered in furs and made of a dark wood. It was just as large as the one they shared in Polis on their wedding night and Isabelle paused to wonder if this night would end differently than that one had.

"You're quiet," Roan noted as he sank into a plush chair by a large picture window, which cast plenty of light into the room. He unlaced his boots and removed them before leaning back into the chair.

After a moment's hesitation and internal debate, Isabelle crossed the space between them and climbed into the chair with him, one of her knees on either side of his legs. It was a position they'd been in everyday for nearly two weeks, only with him facing away from her as they rode on horseback. Now they looked directly at each other, one with lust and the other with barely-contained surprise.

"I was thinking about whether my husband would consummate our marriage tonight or force me to wait longer," she said huskily, her face close enough to his that their lips brushed just the slightest with her words.

"Why wait until tonight?" Roan countered, his calloused hands settling on her thighs and trailing up to her waist, moving her shirt along with them. Isabelle shivered at the feeling of his hands on her skin and crashed her lips onto his.

Roan groaned into their kiss as Isabelle rubbed her hips into his, rubbing the quickly-hardening member beneath the laces of his pants. Her fingers were making quick work of the buttons on his shirt and she had just managed to slip her hands inside the material to touch his bare skin when there was a knock on the door.

"Go away," Roan called, allowing his lips to navigate the bare skin of Isabelle's neck.

"Sire, the leaders of the villages are waiting in the throne room for you," a woman's voice called through the door. "And they'd like to be introduced to the... Queen." She hesitated before referring to Isabelle as the Queen and the woman in question had to wonder if she was still loyal to Roan's mother.

Roan growled before grasping the back of Isabelle's neck and kissing her thoroughly. "We'll continue this later," he promised, voice low and gravelly with want.

"Yes, my king," Isabelle said with a smirk. She re-buttoned his shirt and slid off his lap. After a quick glance around she spotted a mirror on the other side of the room and checked her appearance for the first time since leaving Polis.

Her cuts were healing nicely, thanks to Clarke's salve, and soon would look almost identical to Roan's own scars. Unfortunately the rest of her was looking rough. Her hair was a tattered mess, as were her clothes, and she desperately needed to bathe. "Is there time to clean up?"

"Probably best not to keep them waiting too long." Roan finished lacing up his boots and crossed the room. Turning her around, his deft fingers undid the braids in her hair before beginning a new, single braid. Once it was done he wound it around to sit on the top of her head like a bun and pinned it in place.

Isabelle was shocked at his ability to make her hair look presentable despite not having been washed in over a week. "Wow," she whispered, gently touching the braid. "How did you learn how to do that?"

Roan scoffed softly with a smirk. "Have you seen my hair?"

A slow grin spread across Isabelle's face at his joke. She liked this side of him and hoped to see more of it in the future. Another knock interrupted their moment and the pair made their way to the door.

Outside the room a female warrior was pacing the hall. When they stepped out of their quarters she looked up quickly and took three long strides to reach Roan. "Sire," she said respectfully, bowing her head. Glancing down her nose at Isabelle, she quietly added, "My Queen."

"Isabelle," Roan said, settling his hand on the small of her back. Whether it was meant to offer comfort or not, she was grateful for the touch. "This is Echo; she is the captain of our army."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said politely, though she didn't entirely feel that way. This woman was looking at her with such contempt it almost made her want to run back into her and Roan's room to hide. Fortunately, Octavia and Lincoln came into view at the end of the hall and the younger woman sent her a reassuring nod.

The small group made their way through the immense building, Isabelle trying to commit some of it to memory lest she get lost, before making it to their destination. Azgeda's throne room was more open than the one in Polis, with tall windows casting in bright sunlight. Standing around the room were the leaders of the villages of the Ice Nation. Isabelle knew she'd be meeting them eventually, she just wasn't expecting it to be so soon. Now that they were standing there, watching her intently as she crossed the room with Roan, her confidence almost crumbled.

They ascended the steps to Roan's throne, Echo and Octavia and Lincoln taking their places at the bottom of the steps, and turned to face the crowd. "King Roan and Queen Isabelle," Echo announced and the village leaders knelt respectfully.

Roan sat on his throne and Isabelle stood beside it, trying to look confident. With everyone still kneeling she was able to scan the room easily. Her eyes passed over a young woman in rough clothing kneeling in the back of the room. She appeared to be a servant but when she raised her eyes to look at Isabelle, the new queen gasped in surprise.

"Rose?" she asked, eyes wide. Everyone in the room looked at Isabelle in confusion and followed her line of sight back to the visibly shaking woman.

Nodding her head, tears began to escape Rose's eyes as she took a few steps forward. Instantly she was held back by an Ice Nation guard who shouted at her in their language.

"Let her pass," Roan spoke up, standing beside his wife. "You know this woman?"

Isabelle descended the steps to meet Rose and the frail thing practically collapsed in her arms. "She's one of my people. We thought she died when Farm Station was attacked."

"We weren't killed," Rose finally spoke up, clinging to Isabelle for dear life. "They took us as slaves."

Isabelle felt like ice water was poured over her and she turned to look at her husband in shock. "You take people for _slaves?_ "


End file.
